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“No,” Mac said, cutting Charles off. “I think that too far a walk today with very little inducement. Were the blossoms in full bloom, I would agree with you, but as they are not…”
Charles nodded. “Right you are. Perhaps we ought to walk around the pond, then.”
“A fine prospect,” Mac agreed, relieved. The last thing he wanted was to take their entire party to a place he knew Mabel found sacred—a place she had once told him was her haven.
“I should like to have a tour of the entire expanse of property,” Miss Pemberton said shyly, turning to Charles to offer him a smile. “Maybe not today, but sometime soon.”
“Yes,” her brother agreed. “Capital idea.”
Wright’s gaze searched the doorway, giving Mac the distinctive urge to hit something. Could the imbecile have set his sights on Mabel so soon? Mac had wanted to discover why the captain had requested a meeting with Mabel and had included Wright, but no one involved in that meeting seemed the least inclined to explain it to him.
He pushed back his chair, dropping his napkin on his plate. “I shall meet you outside shortly.”
Mac forced himself not to run, taking the stairs swiftly. Climbing step after step stretched his leg muscles and set his heart drumming a quick rhythm. He’d prefer to swing over a saddle and ride hard until his pent-up emotion was fully let, but it would not do. It was better to play well with the others until more was revealed. He needed the distraction this position provided, assisting the captain with the tenant houses. He needed to be useful to the men. And above all else, he needed more time to make his decision.
He couldn’t very well keep his father waiting forever, which he dutifully recognized. The moment the prize money was made available to him, he would have to act.
“I must go on this walk, Pippa,” Mabel said, her voice drifting from the schoolroom and stilling Mac in his steps. He paused, his hand on the bannister, his head cocked to better hear.
“I’d rather stay here with you, but I am expected to accompany the guests. Papa would be disappointed otherwise.”
“But it’s unfair, Mae. Giulia has been gone for ages, and I am so bored with my wretched French. I don’t know why I must learn French, anyway. I don’t wish to ever speak it.”
“Papa wants—”
“Ugh!” Pippa said. Mac could clearly imagine the young girl’s scowl. A smile came unbidden to his lips.
Mabel’s voice turned soothing, motherly. “Giulia has only been gone a fortnight, and she plans to return tomorrow, Pip. But you must remember that her wedding will take place shortly after, and she will not teach you much longer. If you don’t wish for me to replace her, we must come up with an alternative.”
“Why must Giulia get married? It is vastly unfair.”
Mabel chuckled, and Mac echoed her silently.
“Because she would prefer to spend her life with Nick, Pippa. She loves him, and they make one another happy.”
Hesitancy bit at Mac. He should leave, should cross the corridor and sneak quietly into his bedchamber before either Sheffield girl discovered him.
“Getting married will make them happy?” Pippa asked, curiosity lacing her tone.
A pause came before Mabel’s answer, long enough to force Mac to peek around the wall and into the corridor, where he had a clear shot into Pippa’s room. Mabel crouched beside her sister, holding the young girl’s hands in her own and looking into her face.
“Getting married will make them happy,” Mabel said, smiling.
What had that cost Mabel to say? The woman was unmarried herself. Did she wish for a union, to find a man to make her happy? Perhaps she didn’t and was content with her life. Mac longed to inquire, to learn the answers to those questions. Mabel was adept at hiding her feelings behind a mask.
“But…” Pippa looked uneasy. “Do you want to be married, Mae? Will that make you happy? I’d much rather you stay here with me.”
Mabel delivered a reassuring smile. “Don’t fret, darling. There may be a way I can do both.”
Both? Mac stepped back, his elbow bumping into the wood-paneled wall. Temptation to disappear down the stairs was high, but he wouldn’t turn away now. He thumped his boots on the steps, making as much noise as he could rounding the corner to warn them of his arrival. Mabel stepped into the corridor.
He pulled back, feigning surprise. “Good morning.”
She dipped her head. “Are they assembling for the walk?”
“Yes, soon.” He glanced between Mabel and the room behind her where Pippa frowned up at him.
“Good day, Miss Pippa.” He bowed.
